


Taking Control

by dovingbird



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Choking, Collars, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fantasizing About A Married Couple, Kink Negotiation, Leashes, M/M, Man in Make-Up and Stockings, Waxing, throatfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6557398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam doesn't regret how his relationship with Joel evolved. Absolutely not. That'd be ridiculous. And he's serious about that too. Who could regret a working relationship developing into a close friendship, then almost effortlessly shifting into romance? More than that. A partnership. An alliance. An awareness that they'll accept each other as they are and talk shit out when they can't.</p><p>He doesn't regret how easy things have become either, not playfully biting like they used to be. He doesn't regret the soft, safe predictability. The gentleness. The sweetness. Well. Most of the time he doesn't regret it, at least.</p><p>~~~</p><p>A filled commission. With the help of Caiti, Mica, Barbara, and Lindsay, Adam's relationship with Joel gets its groove back. And it's kinky as shit.<br/><a href="https://twitter.com/JoelHeyman/status/719636251385593856">Inspired by this sinful tweet.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Control

So here's the thing.  
  
Adam doesn't regret how his relationship with Joel evolved. Absolutely not. That'd be ridiculous. And he's serious about that too. Who could regret a working relationship developing into a close friendship, then almost effortlessly shifting into romance? More than that. A partnership. An alliance. An awareness that they'll accept each other as they are and talk shit out when they can't.   
  
He doesn't regret how easy things have become either, not playfully biting like they used to be. He doesn't regret the soft, safe predictability. The gentleness. The sweetness.   
  
Well.   
  
Most of the time he doesn't regret it, at least.   
  
  
~~   
  
  
Joel's head is resting on Adam's thigh. They're on Adam's couch just like every Monday night with a football game playing that Adam stopped paying attention to roughly ten minutes ago. Now the evening's entertainment is, as always, the furrow of Joel's eyebrows, the wrinkles on his forehead, and, Adam's personal favorite, the new gray hairs that have appeared. Distinguished. Or old, depending on how he's feeling.   
  
“Liking the game?” Adam asks.   
  
“Hm?” Joel doesn't even look up from his phone, just like he hasn't since nine minutes ago. “Oh, yeah, absolutely.”   
  
Joel's scrolling down on his phone with the font zoomed in more than he wants to admit, and Adam doesn't think he's been listening since...fuck, too long. Adam idly fingers through some of the gray as he speaks. “Think Carolina's gonna take it?”   
  
“Mm, yeah, I, yeah, probably.”   
  
Carolina is not playing. Okay. “Whatcha looking at?”   
  
“Gold,” Joel says distantly. He's starting to squint.   
  
“Huh.” Honestly shouldn't have even had to ask. He'd say the man bathes in gold, but that time that he got Joel gold-flecked soap for his birthday as a joke Joel nearly had a heart attack at the waste.   
  
Silence. Another first down. Another slow upward scroll.   
  
Adam opens his mouth again. “You shouldn't always be looking at a screen, Joel. It's bad for your eyes now that you're old.”   
  
Quiet. Takes a minute to register. “You're. Yeah. Probably right.” Joel puts the phone away. He turns his head to see the screen. Adam ever so gently trails the back of his knuckles over Joel's cheek. “...Carolina's not even playing.”   
  
Adam softly sighs and rests his hand in the valley of Joel's waist. “Yeah. Right.”   
  
  
~~   
  
  
“He's not bored of me, is he?” Adam knows he sounds whiny but he can't help it.   
  
“What? Joel?” Caiti practically gapes at him over her glass of water. “Why in the world would Joel ever be bored of you?”   
  
There's no sarcasm in her tone. The last thing she's capable of is sarcasm, especially sitting out on the patio of the restaurant they get lunch at every two weeks. The sun is warm on Adam's bare arms and Caiti's bare legs and he's pretty sure that no one in the world could be intentionally cruel on a beautiful day like this.   
  
He rests his chin in his hand and scoops up some more salsa with a chip. “I just. I. Ugh.” He pops it in his mouth and chews it mercilessly, keeps talking even though he knows she hates him talking with food in his mouth – his despair is too intense to be stopped. “It's all easy, Caiti.”   
  
She pauses. Ice clinks together musically as she stirs her water. “Is that...a bad thing?”   
  
“...no.”   
  
“So it's a good thing.”   
  
“No.”   
  
Caiti laughs and shakes her head. “Well, what is it, then?”   
  
“I don't knooooow...” He's a big baby and he knows it but he doesn't know how to say what's wrong.   
  
Luckily Caiti is the closest thing Adam knows to a goddess, and that means she patiently puts her chin in her hands and smiles at him from across the table. Practically beams at him. He looks down and fiddles with his straw wrapper as she speaks. “What's wrong, Adam?”   
  
He lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his eyes. “Dunno.”   
  
“Has Joel said anything?” she prompts.   
  
He tries to think. Has he? “...no. No, not really.”   
  
“And what does that mean?” Her voice is still soft, coaxing. Practically a bandaid on his sore heart and mind.   
  
He combs through his beard, slow and thorough. “He doesn't...say a lot of anything.” He thinks about the quiet nights together, fingers loosely joined as more of an afterthought than anything, watching movies.   
  
“That doesn't sound like Joel.”   
  
He considers. “Not a lot of important things.” Joel will ramble on about football and gold and foreign economics until he's blue in the face, but not...nothing about Adam. Not like he used to.   
  
Caiti sips her water. “Does he do anything that makes you think he's unhappy?”   
  
More thinking. His head's gonna be killing him after this. But that's just, that's the thing. “No. No, I think he's happy.” Adam gently kicks the table leg, feeling the restless energy right under his skin. “He doesn't, like...he doesn't yell a lot anymore, doesn't swear that much, doesn't worry...I don't know.”   
  
“...and is that good?”   
  
He frowns. Thinks hard. “I think I...I miss that part of him. That's bad, right?”   
  
She smiles at him. “Not if you fell in love with his spirit.”   
  
He fell in love with a lot of things. Suddenly he's staring far into the distance. “I kind of like fighting with him. Not like real fighting, no, but I mean, we, we had fun. Just picking at each other. We were loud but we were laughing, and now we're just...quiet. We don't go out, we don't go anywhere at all, we barely have sex, we just...” He realizes what he said and clears his throat. “Sorry.”   
  
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Caiti says, waving him off. “So what if you try something new?”   
  
“Huh?”   
  
“In the bedroom?”   
  
_”Huh?”_   
  
“You know!” She grins. “Something fun! Something kinky!”   
  
“Oh my God,” he mumbles, hiding behind his hands, glad his beard is concealing his blush. “Caiti-”   
  
“What's the matter? C'mon.” She scoots around to his side of the table and touches his arm, dropping her voice. “No one can hear us now, so tell me, what kinky things does Joel like?”   
  
“I don't know!” He's muffled behind his hand, which is probably good because he hasn't yelled in such a long fucking time, forgot how loud he could be. He forgot the fact that he mostly raised his voice around Joel when they were recording, that things have tapered into less shouting and more companionable humor ever since they started their relationship. And now he's yelling at a Mexican restaurant. Good. “I, I don't, Caiti, we don't...we're not...we never did that stuff.”   
  
“Oh, really?” She sounds so genuinely confused that he peeks out from behind his hands. “I would've never...huh.”   
  
He hesitates. Eventually he can't hold himself back. “Never what?”   
  
“No, I just, sorry, I never would've thought everything would've been so vanilla with you two.”   
  
He stares at her. He's suddenly realizing that her relationship with Jack must be much more interesting than he ever imagined. “...uh-huh?”   
  
“I mean, you just...” She laughs. “Joel is so...he's so himself, you know? You've helped temper him, but he's always been so anxious and worried and loud, and that always sort of lends itself to kink, doesn't it?”   
  
Adam stares.   
  
“Adam?”   
  
“I'm so lost right now,” he mumbles.   
  
She chuckles again and reaches down, squeezing his hand. “All right, let me explain. So one of Joel's biggest fears is everything crashing down around him and going to hell, yes? You think?”   
  
He nods. Sounds about right.   
  
“So it sounds logical that it would be interesting for Joel to be completely in control of a sexual situation so he can escape those worries for a little while.   
  
Adam stares at Caiti a little harder, eyes wide and starting to burn before he remembers to blink. “Like...” He pauses, catches the volume of his tone, drops it to a whisper. “...like a BDSM thing?”   
  
She bites the tip of her tongue through her smile and leans in, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Exactly like a BDSM thing,” she whispers back.   
  
He sharply exhales, didn't realize he'd been holding that much air in this entire time. He has to force himself to breathe as he considers the idea.   
  
While his sex with Joel had always been pretty mild and innocent – just a few positions, a hell of a lot of kissing and touching, long cuddle sessions at the end mostly because Adam wrapped his arms around a complaining and squirming Joel and held him until he huffed and relaxed against his chest – he can't say that it never hinted at being something more intense. He remembers one experience vividly where he'd spent all day riling Joel up at the office, and when they finally got to Joel's apartment Adam still wasn't done, kept teasing him and making Joel work to get his clothes off and goading him into showing how much he wanted Adam. And there had been a moment when Joel finally had them stripped naked where he looked Adam dead in the eye, so hard, so intense, that Adam forgot to breathe. And Joel had pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him and linked their fingers and pinned Adam's hands to the mattress as he kissed him harder than he ever had before.   
  
That would...yeah, that would certainly suggest he had a thing for being in control, wouldn't it?   
  
Adam frowns more. “But if that's something he wanted...why wouldn't he just ask for it? Or do it?”   
  
Caiti shrugs. “Might be nervous about it. New relationships can be scary, Adam. If you push for things you like and your partner doesn't like them you might end up accidentally ruining something that could've been fantastic.”   
  
“But we're not in a new relationship anymore. I don't think we ever were. We trust each other. I'm not scared of shit he might want.”   
  
Caiti quirks a brow, tilts her head to the side. “But you're comfortable. You're safe.”   
  
He's silent.   
  
“And you want things to be exciting again. That's what it is, isn't it?”   
  
He feels guilty, like he can taste acid on his tongue, but he slowly nods. “Yeah. I mean, just...just a little, you know? Like they used to be. Like every day with him was an adventure, like learning his favorite shit, getting to watch him quote his favorite movie in his fucking Caboose voice, all of it, just. It's weird, isn't it?”   
  
“No,” she says. “No, it's not weird at all. I mean, Adam, I've been with Jack long enough that I can absolutely say that it's not bad if you both decide to try something new together. It's not bad to miss the novelty.”   
  
Maybe she's not off base after all. Maybe, like always, Caiti knows exactly what she's talking about.   
  
“So what do you think?” she asks. “Would you enjoy something like that? Maybe giving Joel a little bit of control?”   
  
He thinks about how it felt when Joel pinned his arms down so perfectly, how Adam had pushed, how Joel hadn't given an inch even though he could have, and the burning caress of pleasure that shot through Adam's entire body in response. “I...umm, yeah. Yeah, that, that would be cool, I think.”   
  
Caiti pulls out her phone and holds it in both hands, opening a notetaking app. “All right, let's just-”   
  
“What are you doing?” Adam asks with a grin.   
  
“Well, we're going to have to be organized, aren't we?” she asks. “Especially if you want to surprise Joel with something new.”   
  
That sounds like a fan-fucking-tastic idea, actually, yes. Joel always has the best reactions, especially when he isn't expecting something. Adam can see it already, him planning some elaborate scene and Joel's eyes sparkling, him grinning, laughing, calling Adam names like he always used to, Adam getting to ratchet Joel up to even bigger heights and tease him and make fun of him until Joel finally just...just what? Just takes control. Even though Adam's not sure what that would look like yet.   
  
Caiti tips over and leans into Adam companionably as she starts typing, and he watches the words go marching across the screen. “So we want to incite Joel into taking control.”   
  
“We?” Adam asks without thinking.   
  
She giggles. “Fine. You. You want to incite Joel into taking control. And now we have to think of how to do that.”   
  
He puts an arm around the back of her chair for stability. “Okay.”   
  
“Can I make a suggestion?” she asks, glancing up at him, and he nods. “I think we should play with your appearance a little.”   
  
“You're not shaving my beard,” he says, horrified.   
  
“No, no no, of course not, we won't even trim it. It suits you.” She reaches up and tugs ever so gently at the strands, and he lets her guide his head down an inch or two without protest. “Does that hurt?” she asks with another smile.   
  
“I mean.” He shrugs, then immediately feels bad when it jostles her head. “It's not a big deal.”   
  
“Doesn't bother you?” She shifts her hand and catches his chin instead, pulling him down a little further, and he doesn't even think about fighting it. “Being tugged around like that?”   
  
He shrugs more. “It's a thing. I mean, I'm practically dragged around the office anyway when Joel goes anywhere, might as well just put me on a fucking leash or something.”   
  
Silence. He looks down at Caiti and realizes that she's gone contemplative. And then she lets him go and starts typing furiously on her phone.   
  
Adam leans to be able to see it better. “What does petplay mean?”   
  
She reaches up and pats his cheek. “It means I wanna see what Joel does when I put you in a collar and leash.”   
  
It takes a moment to set in, and then he stiffens. “I'm, Caiti, that's, I'm not a fucking dog.”   
  
When she grins up at him she looks completely not sorry. “You've been Joel's pet practically since you first started working together and we all know it. So why not see if he wants to pull you around a little with an actual leash?”   
  
“That's...he's gonna laugh at me, Caiti, he won't like it, he won't.”   
  
“And you know that so well? You've asked him?”   
  
“Well, no.”   
  
“Does the idea scare you?”   
  
He frowns. He doesn't know how he would feel actually wearing a...fuck, a leash, but when he thinks about Joel pulling him close with one, wrapping it around his fist, tugging him in for a kiss that's on his terms, Adam can't help but feel a little shiver run through him. He rubs at the goosebumps that pop up on his arm. “No, I. I guess we can try it. But if he laughs at me I'm telling him it was your idea.”   
  
“Fine.”   
  
“So that's how we're, uh, playing with my appearance, is that how you put it?”   
  
“Nope,” she says cheerfully. “No, I wanna see how you look with makeup.”   
  
That sounds terrible. “We know what I look like with makeup,” he reminds her. “Remember Extra Life? Remember me with eyeshadow and all that?”   
  
“And you looked lovely,” she says, reaching up and patting his cheek. “And I want to do it again. I think Joel will like it.”   
  
“Caiti.”   
  
“Joel likes pretty things. Shiny things. He's like, like a cat or something. You can't tell me he wouldn't like it.”   
  
Adam pouts. “He'll laugh at me.”   
  
“Or he'll get a giant boner.”   
  
_”Caiti.”_   
  
“Joel is always complimenting girls on their makeup at the office,” she reminds him. “He doesn't, like, have the terms to say exactly what he likes, but he's always saying it looks nice. Which means if it's on you, he'll probably blow a gasket.”   
  
She's. Okay, she's right about the complimenting thing. Joel is practically effusive about it. So that would logically suggest that, yeah, okay, he might like it on Adam. “A leash _and_ makeup, though? You don't think that's a little much?”   
  
“I also wanna know what he'd do if we put you in something stereotypically feminine-”   
  
“No panties,” Adam insists in horror.   
  
“No,” she says just as quickly, “stockings.”   
  
Silence.   
  
“Stockings. But we'd have to wax your legs to make them look best.”   
  
“Caiti!” He spreads his arms. “It's summer! I have to wear shorts!”   
  
“And you have very nice calves that the world would love to see,” she says. “Hairy or not.”   
  
“That is the most fucking embarrassing thing I've ever heard.”   
  
She grins. “You say that. But wait until all the guys are looking at your legs.”   
  
That is even worse. He is dating Joel. He doesn't need to think about Burnie or Jeremy or Jack or anyone looking at his legs and telling him they look...not bad. They wouldn't do that, would they? They'd be too awkward or embarrassed. Then again, that's what this company is built on. He has a moment of horror thinking about Hurricane Gus 2.0 running a hand over Adam's hairless calves, horror and. And. Intrigue?   
  
He's not going to go further with that thought.   
  
“Fine,” he says, burying his face in his hands. “Fine. Leash. Collar. Stockings. Anything else that's embarrassing?”   
  
She pauses. “Adam, if you don't like any of it, you don't have to do that, okay? Just remember that. This isn't just about doing something new and fun and kinky for Joel. It's about you enjoying it too. Okay?”   
  
He takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, no, you're right.”   
  
“But for the record I think you'll look very pretty in some stockings.”   
  
“Can they be black?” he asks tentatively.   
  
“Absolutely.”   
  
He's quiet for a long moment. “Okay. Yeah. When do we start?”   
  
  
~~   
  
  
Adam's still not sure how he ended up in Jack and Caiti's house a few hours before his date with Joel, but okay, whatever. It's not like he hasn't been here before.   
  
It's just that he hasn't been here with girls buzzing around him like bees and chatting excitedly.   
  
“Okay, we need a process,” Mica is saying.   
  
“What?” Barbara asks. “You don't wanna just curl his eyelashes at the same time we're waxing his legs? I think that's a great idea!”   
  
Caiti is the one laying out all of the supplies on the bathroom counter. “Please don't scare him. He's already nervous.”   
  
Barbara leans down in front of where Adam's sitting on the edge of the bathtub, and she tucks her hair behind her ear. “Adam? Are you scared?   
  
He nods very slowly. “Yes.”   
  
“Good.”   
  
“Fuck you,” he says companionably, and Barbara grins as she bounces back to her full height.   
  
“No, so, okay, here's what I think,” Mica goes on as she gestures at the supplies. “Wax first. Adam? Adam, you used that exfoliating stuff we told you to use last night, right?”   
  
He frowns. “Yes.”   
  
“Okay, did you bring the rest?”   
  
He pauses. “I. No, I used it all.”   
  
Mica stares. “All of it?”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Oh my God.”   
  
“What?” He starts feeling defensive. “Was I not supposed to? There, I mean, you didn't, there wasn't like an instruction manual or-”   
  
“No no no, it's okay,” Mica says, but she's leaning down and peeking at his legs, touching them experimentally. “Perfectly fine. I'm just amazed you still have skin.”   
  
“Good. Great. Off to a good start,” he says, immediately lapsing into his Slavic accent, wrapping it around him like a blanket. “Adam almost took off all of his skin, now let's rip off the rest, good, very sexy.”   
  
“Adam.” Caiti makes her way over and pets through his hair once, leaning forward to kiss the top of his head. “Calm down, love, it's fine. You're going to have the softest legs Joel's ever felt in his life.”   
  
He still feels awkward, but hey, Caiti's never steered him wrong. Plus, Joel seems to like soft things, if Adam's belly is of any indication.   
  
“So wax first,” Mica says. “Then lotion. Then makeup. That'll give his skin time to settle down a little while we work.”   
  
“They're going to be very sensitive,” Caiti warns. Adam can think of worse things than going to seduce his boyfriend with overly sensitive legs.   
  
“And then Lindsay should _hopefully_ be here with the clothes, and everything should be great!”   
  
“And plenty of time to get home and get situated before Joel gets there,” Caiti says. “Do you want to do anything else?” she asks very seriously. “If you'd rather, I bought some new plugs the other day, and we could leave and you could go ahead and take care of business so you won't have to later.”   
  
It takes a moment for Adam to realize what Caiti's saying. “Holy. Shit. Caiti.”   
  
“What?” Barbara asks. She pops a grape into her mouth from the fresh fruit that Caiti set out to snack on. “You're not the only one who does buttstuff here, champ. Don't be shy.”   
  
“Yeah, I mean.” Caiti shrugs. “Pretty sure I've pegged Jack enough times to know the process.”   
  
“Yeah,” Mica adds, “and-”   
  
“Can we just.” Adam rubs his face. “Can we not talk about fucking anybody in the ass while I'm here, because that's...”   
  
“Intriguing?” Barbara prompts.   
  
“Awkward.”   
  
“Fine. Adam's no fun.”   
  
He crosses his arms over his chest and lifts one of his legs so his foot is on the toilet lid. “Can we just...?”   
  
Caiti is the one who goes about spreading the wax very carefully. “You have lovely legs, Adam,” she informs him.   
  
“Uh-huh,” he says, not terribly convinced.   
  
“No, really, have you seen your calves? Very shapely.”   
  
“If they were any curvier,” Mica says as she hovers nearby, testing little bits of makeup on his wrist before wiping them away, “you'd probably just have Joel in perpetual bonerville, let's be honest.”   
  
“Productive in the workplace,” Barb adds.   
  
“Do you spend that much time thinking about Joel's boner?” Adam asks, mostly to distract himself from how Caiti is smoothing the weird looking cloth strip thingy on his leg.   
  
“Oh, loads,” Caiti says. “Don't hold your breath or tense up, Adam, but this going to hurt.”   
  
“Wait, re- OWW.”   
  
“Lovely!” she chirps, displaying the hair-covered underside of the strip for the other ladies to gawk at.   
  
“Motherfucker, that hurt!”   
  
“You were quite warned, that's enough of that.” Caiti rubs the back of his leg in what's probably supposed to be soothing but mostly just tickles, and Adam wiggles his toes while he grumbles. “We've got to do a lot more of this. Are you prepared?”   
  
“Yeah,” he mutters.   
  
“You've had worse.” Barb's perched on the counter and helpfully handing Mica more palettes for her to hold up next to Adam's eyes. “You and Joel literally slapped the shit out of each other while you played that game, what was it?”   
  
“My kind of foreplay,” Mica teases, waggling her eyebrows.   
  
Not for the first time, Adam tries to figure out how he got himself into this mess. Not only that, but why the hell does he trust these girls so much to primp and preen him to perfection? To make him into precisely something that Joel will enjoy?   
  
He's not sure. But as Caiti rubs his leg every time he winces and swears, as Mica gently scratches his head when she sees him pouting, as Barbara throws around an endless amount of puns that make Adam wince and laugh at the same time, he has to admit that he feels far safer than he expected.   
  
Caiti and Mica are slathering lotion onto Adam's legs – Mica in particular is complaining when Adam starts poking at her with his toes – when the front door slams. “I have the things!” Lindsay triumphantly shouts from a distance.   
  
“Brava!” Barbara slides off the counter and goes bounding to find her, and Adam feels himself tensing again.   
  
Caiti does too, apparently, because she squeezes the thick muscle in his calf, then presses her fingers into it rhythmically, coaxing him to relax again. “Hey. There's still time to back out, okay? Don't forget that. None of this is set in stone.”   
  
“Yeah right,” he says with a nervous chuckle. “My legs are naked now. Do you know how many years I've been growing that hair?”   
  
“Almost twenty-six?” Mica helpfully supplies.   
  
“Exactly.”   
  
“Would you like me to save it for you in case we need to glue it back?” Caiti asks dryly.   
  
“Absolutely,” he says.   
  
“I'll get right on that.”   
  
Lindsay and Barbara pop into the bathroom, and the things that Lindsay holds look. Interesting.   
  
“Where's the rest of it?” Adam asks slowly.   
  
Lindsay grins incorrigibly, holding up exactly four items of clothing. “You're looking at it, big guy. You like?”   
  
He's. He's not sure, actually. He's silent as he stares.   
  
Before the air can turn awkward Caiti's coming to her feet and smiling as she grabs Adam's hands, pulling him up. “C'mon, we'll let you change in the bedroom.”   
  
“I thought we said no panties,” he says just as slowly as Caiti starts tugging him.   
  
“What?” Lindsay asks, looking down at them. “They're not panties, dude, they're boxer briefs.”   
  
“They have _lace,_ ” he says accusingly.   
  
“They're _pretty,_ ” Lindsay says back. “And they're gonna give your sausage support, so-”   
  
Mica makes a low sound behind them. “Oh my God, please don't call it a sausage.”   
  
Adam is still too lost on the fabric that Lindsay shoves into his hands to comment, black and...and okay, yes, they're clearly boxer briefs, but they're...he fingers the lace that covers the sides, the back, and realizes belatedly that it's an intricate pattern of flowers and vines. These are...he frowns. They're probably made for shapely dudes, guys who are fucking fitness models, not...   
  
He stares at himself in Caiti's floor length mirror as the girls continue milling and chatting around him. Fuck, okay, this is fine.   
  
Lindsay lays the button-down shirt she also brought on the bed, places one long stocking on either side. “These are gonna stay up so hardcore, dude,” she says. “Trust me, from one thick-thighed person to another, these are the fucking best. Only kind you need.”   
  
“I trust your judgment,” he says, staring at them. They're also black. They're probably going to look like fucking shit on him.   
  
Caiti appears next to him suddenly, like a small little pixie of joy, and tilts her head back to look up at him. “Do you want me to help?” she asks softly, where the other girls can't hear.   
  
That sounds both horrifying and comforting. “Yeah,” he says softly back.   
  
“Okay.” She smiles and rubs his arm. “Okay. Ladies! Out! Give the man some privacy!”   
  
“No fun!” Barbara shouts as Caiti ushers them all out and shuts the door, and then a muffled “No fun at all!”   
  
And then it's just the two of them in Caiti and Jack's bedroom, Caiti watching him, Adam watching them both in the mirror. The fabric feels very thin and small in his massive hands, and he looks down at it, swallowing hard. “So this is my outfit, huh?”   
  
Caiti laughs. “Certainly'll show off the goods well enough.”   
  
“Be pretty impossible to miss 'em, I'd say.”   
  
“Mm-hmm.” She walks over to the bed and picks up the shirt, smoothing out a stray wrinkle here and there. “I'm not looking, if you'd like to go ahead and change.”   
  
He looks over his shoulder to make sure there's no way she can peek, then clears his throat as he starts wiggling out of his boxers that he'd stripped down to for waxing. “I'm, uh...”   
  
“Mm-hmm?”   
  
His voice is low and thick, and he clears his throat once more. “I'm afraid I might. Might rip them.”   
  
They're both quiet, and there's nothing but the whispery sound of Adam's boxers when they hit the ground, when he kicks them aside. “Just be gentle,” Caiti advises. “If you need help, let me know.”   
  
He chuckles. “I am literally naked from the waist down.”   
  
“And?”   
  
He flushes and swallows down the flutter in his belly. “I think I'm fine. I'll...tell you if I need any help.”   
  
“All right, love.”   
  
Caiti hums a song that Adam doesn't precisely recognize – Paramore, maybe – while Adam very carefully slides the underwear on. The fabric in the front is soft rather than sheer or lacy, and he catches himself running a curious hand over the shape of his bulge in it before remembering abruptly that yes, that soundtrack in the background isn't coming from a stereo, he's not alone in the room. He turns on the ball of his foot slowly, staring at the shape of his lower half in this, just...   
  
It's not...not disgusting, he guesses.   
  
He tenses his thigh without thinking, watches the muscles under his skin clench, watches how the briefs don't move an inch. His skin is so pale, but it doesn't look out of place through the lace designs that go straight up his thigh, his hip, right to the waistband.   
  
He tries to examine his lace-covered ass as well, but he can't do that without flushing further, so he turns his head away, is surprised he doesn't give himself whiplash. Instead he tugs off his t-shirt and then pads across the soft carpet to the bed where Caiti's humming as she fingers the stocking's fabric, and he reaches past her to pick up the shirt, draws her eyes, and he watches her face as she skims her gaze down to the underwear, as her eyes sparkle and her lips pull into a slow smile. “Lovely.”   
  
He takes in a deep breath. “Thanks.”   
  
Adam slides on the new shirt a little too quickly, and Caiti reaches up to smooth it so it aligns with his shoulders perfectly even while Adam buttons. The fabric is soft on his skin, almost too soft, and he can feel his body responding at the way it rubs over his torso as he shifts this way and that. “Suits you,” Caiti says with a wide grin. “The color and the fit.”   
  
“I...” He looks back at the mirror, sees how it brings out the breadth of his shoulders, the strength of his torso. Shit. “Thanks.” He feels like a broken record, but he has no idea what else to say. It's like his brain has been wiped clean at seeing himself in this attitude.   
  
“Here,” she says, patting the bed. “Sit. It'll make the stockings easier.”   
  
He can't turn down that logic, can he? He perches on the edge of the bed and stares at the stocking before Caiti takes it with a smile. She somehow wrangles it as she plops down to her knees, and he watches her as she opens it up, spreads the opening easily, and offers it to Adam's foot, and together they very carefully manage to get the stocking on his foot and on its way up his calf.   
  
“Holy shit,” he says softly as Caiti continues pulling it up. “That feels-”   
  
“Weird, huh?” she asks, grinning. “Feels weird every time I put them on after I shave my legs.”   
  
He lets out a very quiet shaky breath, and when she reaches his knee he holds his hands out to take it, but she shakes her head and clicks her tongue and he's stuck sliding forward so she can continue on her way up his thigh.   
  
“Don't want you to put a run in them,” she murmurs, eyes concentrated.   
  
When he is stocking-clad, he takes a moment to stare at his legs, how the sheer fabric drapes over them, how his toes look...they literally look delicate. His big massive ham feet. What the fuck is that?   
  
“Rub your legs together,” Caiti prompts as she sits back.   
  
He does. “Fuck,” he whispers.   
  
“Good?”   
  
He swallows. Nods. Tries to ignore just how fucking fantastic it feels.   
  
Caiti practically pops up to her feet and claps her hands together. “Great! I'll go get the girls, we'll get you in makeup.”   
  
He jerks his eyes up to her. “Wait, they'll, I don't, do they have to see me like this? In my underwear?”   
  
She shakes her head. “No, not if you don't want. Here, let me just...” She crosses the room and plucks an afghan draped over the back of a chair in the corner – a little reading nook, gross, it's adorable – and then takes his hand to guide him over to it. “Sit,” she prompts, then drapes the blanket over his legs. “Perfect. Now let me just...” She turns on the lamp on the nearby table, and it's bright enough that Adam squints when she adjusts the shade. “Perfect lighting. All right, don't move, I'll be right back.”   
  
He will not move, he decides, purely because he is terrified of rubbing anything together and accidentally popping a boner. No thank you. Not here, not in front of a bunch of girls.   
  
He sits like a statue, concentrating on staying completely still, and yet somehow he's still not ready when the girls descend upon him with makeup.   
  
They're vultures and it's the scariest thing he's ever lived through. How do people do this on a daily basis? He can't count the number of times that he cries when he's attacked by eyeliner, mascara, an eyelash curler. Isn't that just a medieval torture device? What the fuck is all of this shit?   
  
Somehow, though, he survives. He survives the assault, the teasing, the attack. And when they put a mirror in front of him, he looks weird as fuck.   
  
“You look perfect,” Caiti murmurs, appearing beside his face, grinning into the glass.   
  
Well. Maybe he doesn't look all that bad.   
  
“Okay,” Mica says, “just remember not to rub your eyes or anything.”   
  
“Do you want gloss?” Lindsay suddenly says, perking up. “I have gloss in my car.”   
  
Adam winces. “I think that might be a little much. Like, what if I get it all over Joel?”   
  
“We call that art,” Barb says. “Take pictures.”   
  
Adam stares at her. “You want pictures of my naked boyfriend covered in makeup?”   
  
She winks. “Now, that sounds like your idea, not mine.”   
  
“Gloss. I'm getting gloss.” Lindsay turns and grabs Barbara's hand, dragging her along as well. “This is an emergency and I need backup.”   
  
“Backup!” Mica calls as she charges after them.   
  
And then it's Adam and Caiti again to the distant sound of the front door opening. Caiti lets Adam hold the mirror as she perches on the arm of the chair, so light that he barely feels a thing. “Joel's going to look at you like you shot him,” she says softly. “He's going to be so pleased.”   
  
“I hope that's a good thing. And that you're right. I've never done anything like this before.”   
  
“Trust me.”   
  
He meets her eyes in the mirror and holds them, and when she winks at him and stands up he follows on instinct, the blanket dropping to his feet. There's a question on his tongue, and he opens his mouth to say it, but he comes to a dead stop when he realizes that the footsteps coming down the hallway belong not to the fleet of girls, but...Jack.   
  
_Jack._   
  
“Jack!” Caiti sings out.   
  
“Adam?” Jack asks.   
  
“Motherfucker,” Adam replies.   
  
“Oh,” Caiti says, spinning around and running for the afghan. “Jack, you should've told me you were on your way home, we've, we've just been-”   
  
“Is this for Joel?” Jack asks as he enters the bedroom and sets his keys on the dresser, his eyes trailing down over Adam.   
  
Adam gulps, trying to resist the urge to cover himself in embarrassment. “Uh.” He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”   
  
“Huh.”   
  
When Caiti offers Adam the blanket he takes it but lets it dangle to the side, because no matter how flushed his cheeks are under his beard or how awkward this is, letting Jack see him so out of his element, he can't...deny the fact that Jack possibly knows Joel best out of all of them in this room. They've been best friends for years. Adam rubs the back of his neck. “Do you think he...?”   
  
Jack's eyes are still heavy on Adam's body. They don't move away, not for a second, and as Jack crosses his arms over his chest Adam realizes he's not uncomfortable at the fact that Jack is _looking,_ just...just that he might disapprove.   
  
“Did you shave your legs, dude?” Jack asks.   
  
“Wax,” Caiti says.   
  
“Huh.” Jack grins. “Think Joel might've liked doing that himself.” He rubs the beard that's still growing in and Adam abruptly remembers Jack and Joel disappearing right after Joel and Caiti finished shaving his face on air, how the two men had been nowhere to be found for quite some time after, how even after Joel and Adam got together Joel was still close-lipped about what happened.   
  
Adam swallows again, tries not to let his mind curiously linger on that thought experiment. “That, uh, that would've. Ruined the surprise.”   
  
“Yeah. Goddamn, Adam.” Jack's voice is a little lower than before, and Adam stares at the expression on Jack's face, the small smile. “Joel is going to lose his goddamn mind when he sees you.”   
  
“In a...good way?”   
  
“In a fantastic way.” Jack locks eyes with Adam and they're so intense that Adam immediately looks away.   
  
“There's actually another thing,” Caiti says as she moves past Adam, her arm brushing his, and Adam stands there under Jack's observation for a few moments as Caiti disappears into the closet and starts rooting around. When she returns Jack sees what's in her hand first and whistles, and Adam feels his heart beat a little faster when he looks up and spots the...the collar. And leash.   
  
“This isn't super fancy, just something I saw that I thought you'd be comfortable with,” Caiti is saying, “so if it's something you and Joel want to play with more you're perfectly allowed to pick out something nice together.”   
  
“Okay,” Adam says because he has to say something.   
  
“Jack?” Caiti asks after she stands on her tiptoes in front of Adam and frowns. “Could you...?”   
  
“Yeah, no problem.” He takes the collar from her and stands far too close to Adam as he slides it around his neck, close enough that Adam can catch the smell of his soap, and Adam traces his eyes over the column of Jack's neck while he works. “That feel all right?” Jack asks after he's closed it, and Adam focuses on the odd feeling of having something around his throat.   
  
He swallows. “It, umm. It might be. Tight.”   
  
“Cool.” Jack doesn't tease him, just immediately takes it down a loop so it's a little less oppressive, more a gentle weight around his neck than anything.   
  
Jack steps back and Caiti stands next to him and Adam touches the collar, running his fingers over it, moving past them to see himself in the full length mirror.   
  
He looks...fucking sinful.   
  
“I need to head home,” he says distantly, because all he can think about is the boner he's going to pop in this, how there's no concealing it when he's just in his underwear and a shirt that barely covers the waistband of it, how he'd never hear the end of it from anyone.   
  
“The gloss,” Caiti says softly, her voice going abruptly quiet, and Adam doesn't realize why until Jack steps forward and touches Adam's cheek from the side. Adam immediately tips his head, wondering at the way the air feels like it gets stuck in his chest, and he listens to the quiet clinking before Jack secures the leash. And then Jack gently pulls, and Adam immediately turns to face him, eyes wide, lips parted.   
  
Jack holds his eyes. Tugs the leash, and Adam abruptly leans forward an inch, mind quiet, heart pounding. Jack opens his mouth as if to say something, pauses, then shakes his head with a little smile as he takes Adam's hand and puts the end of the leash in it. “Try not to get pulled over by a cop, dude.”   
  
Adam can't remember how to talk. He watches as Jack claps him on the shoulder and walks past Adam and leaves the room.   
  
The front door opens again when Adam's finally turning and walking to the bathroom to get his pants, and he hears shouts of shock and appreciation down the hallway when the girls get a glimpse of him. He doesn't pause, doesn't stop, just. Gets his pants. He's buttoning and zipping them when Mica and Lindsay and Barbara try to shove into the bathroom at the same exact time and start scolding each other for blocking the way.   
  
“Here, here,” Mica says when she wins, and Adam leans back against the counter, obediently leans down for her to gently rub the gloss onto his lips. Lindsay takes the leash in hand to wrap around her fist, and Adam's eyes don't move from her while she does. He barely breathes.   
  
“Perfect,” Barbara decides. “If Joel nuts in his pants when he sees you, tell me, I need to know. It's important information.”   
  
“Yeah,” Adam says, still feeling like he's catching up to the world around him.   
  
He's escorted by a gaggle of women to the front door, and when Adam turns to say goodbye he locks eyes with Jack sitting on the couch with a beer in hand. Jack grins at him and lifts the beer in a toast, and Caiti tugs Adam down by the leash to give him a kiss on the cheek, and Adam is far more confused when he gets in his car than he thinks he's ever been before.   
  
He also left his boxers and other shirt inside. He's not sure his legs work enough to go back in and get them.   
  
  
~~   
  
  
When Adam gets back to his apartment, he moves methodically to get everything taken care of. Discards his pants. Makes sure the big bottle of lube is on the nightstand and that the little trial sized bottle of lube he's had for forever is on the coffee table just in case they don't make it out of the living room. Goes to rub his eyes and remembers no, no, even though mascara burns a little he needs to stay far away.   
  
Looks at himself in the mirror. Thinks distantly that he looks wanton.   
  
Adam sighs raggedly as he moves out of the bedroom, his hands tented at his lips, studying the floor under his stockinged feet as he wanders into the living room. Joel's finishing up a shoot at work for a new short. He'll be at Adam's apartment soon. He'll probably be tired and hungry, but hopefully he won't mind this little...experiment beforehand. Right? He won't just walk past Adam and say he looks nice and go get food from the fridge, will he? He's suddenly terrified that he'll do just that, that he won't appreciate any of it, that he'll think it looks ridiculous, that he'll laugh.   
  
But no. Jack says he'll like it. And he has reason to trust Jack's judgment on that now more than ever.   
  
Adam is pacing slowly in the living room with his thoughts still racing when a key enters the lock, and he freezes, takes a deep breath. Turns to face the door as it opens.   
  
Joel doesn't say anything as he comes inside, doesn't even look at him at first, just focuses on getting the door shut and locked, and Adam has a moment to drink him in and feel a thrill shoot up his spine. He's clothed in pretty standard attire for a number of his roles in shorts – white button-down shirt tucked into black pants, a belt, black dress shoes – and he looks distracting, as always. Doesn't distract Adam enough. He's still mildly panicked when Joel turns around and freezes.   
  
The keys fall to the floor.   
  
Joel doesn't...say anything. He looks like he barely breathes. But then as he rakes his eyes over Adam's body, slow and deliberate, his brow furrows. His mouth drops open. He looks, looks frustrated. Outraged.   
  
Out of everything he imagined, Adam never thought that he might have pissed him off.   
  
Silence spreads through the air like poison. With his heart pounding Adam opens his mouth to apologize, to tell him to forget what he saw, something, _anything,_ but before he can even draw air into his lungs Joel is softly speaking.   
  
“On your knees.”   
  
The entire apartment shakes when Adam crashes down. “Shit,” Adam mutters. He's going to have bruises all over his knees. “Motherfuck-”   
  
“Stop,” Joel says, a little louder than before, a little firmer. “Don't, no, no talking, not...” His eyes linger on the collar, the leash, and he lets out a harsh breath. “Not unless I...I ask you a question.”   
  
Okay, that's. That's a different element that Adam didn't expect. He stands on his knees as straight and tall as he can, eyes on Joel's face, and they stare at each other for a long moment before Joel is swearing under his breath. Joel leans into the wall as he works his shoes off, one by one, but he doesn't say anything. And then he stands there, staring at the floor, and Adam's pulse is running so fast that he thinks he might pass out, so he tries again. “A-are you oka-”   
  
“No talking,” Joel says, and Adam clamps his mouth shut.   
  
Joel finally pushes off the wall and looks at Adam again. He starts to walk. He takes a wide circle around Adam, and Adam doesn't follow him with his eyes, just feels the thrill along his skin as Joel's gaze travels over him.   
  
Joel's somewhere behind him when he lets out a breathy laugh, low and toneless, and it's so him, so Joel, that Adam feels his chest swell. He doesn't even care that Joel's laughing. It's not mocking Adam, he can tell that, it's just Joel's sign of disbelief, of adjustment. Adam's known him long enough to recognize it. “What the fuck, Adam?”   
  
That's absolutely a question. “Surprise,” he says weakly.   
  
“Yeah, I'd, I'd definitely call this a...a surprise.” When Joel moves back into his line of sight he has a fist pressed to his mouth, but Adam can see the corners of his lips quirked around it. Joel stands in front of him for a moment, smiling, before he shakes his head and lets out a quiet breath, one that shakes around the edges, and it's the most incredible thing, because Adam gets to watch Joel sink into something else. The tension in his shoulders melts away, his hands fall to his sides, and the smile falls away too, and Adam's left with a remarkably powerful man in front of him, someone who had a hand in founding one of the most influential companies on the Internet today.   
  
Fuck, how the hell did he ever draw his eye?   
  
Joel squats down so he's eye level with Adam and reaches out to touch his jawline, to tilt his head this way and that, and Adam feels the low bleed of arousal just under his skin, seeping through him like lava in his veins. When Joel trails a thumb over his cheek Adam can't help but shiver, and Joel's eyes sparkle even as his mouth stays neutral. “Who helped you, uh, helped you prepare?”   
  
Adam's eyelashes flutter as Joel's thumb wanders down to his slick mouth, traces just below the swell of his lips. “Caiti,” he says, “Caiti and Mica and Barb and, and Lindsay, and Jack was, he was sort of there at the end.”   
  
Adam doesn't miss the way that Joel's thumb presses a little more firmly into his skin at the mention of Jack's name. “Uh-huh.”   
  
He holds his tongue. He's learning.   
  
“You wanted to look like this?”   
  
He nods.   
  
“You like how it makes you feel?”   
  
He is still so overly conscious of how the underwear is fitting him, how he's already filling it with a half-chub, how he is so much more aware of the collar now that his pulse is fluttering wildly. “Yeah.”   
  
“Okay,” Joel says softly. And then he takes the leash, wrapping it a few times around his fist, and tugs, and Adam's eyes immediately drop to the floor. “Wow.”   
  
Adan can feel the gentle touch of Joel's breath on his cheek. He waits.   
  
“We've never, we, we haven't played like this, Adam,” Joel says. His voice has taken on that smooth, hypnotic quality that Adam loves so much, and Adam can feel himself swaying slightly to the cadence of it as Joel goes on. “It wasn't something I, I thought you'd have much, ah, interest in, so I never said...” Silence. Nothing but the soft sound of the wall clock ticking. “...you wanna play?”   
  
Play. He's not used to the term, but something shivers inside of him, something that likes the sound of it, the sound of Joel's tone, the entire implication, that this is something fun and light and not something to be scared of. And anyway, he's never been scared of Joel. He's not going to start now. “Yeah.”   
  
“Yeah,” Joel echoes in a whisper.   
  
Adam's eyes have been resting on the floor, studying the carpet around Joel's black socks. He's quite content to do this, but Joel tugs the leash again, and this time Adam brings his eyes up, meets Joel's gaze.   
  
Joel has the prettiest fucking eyes, dude. Such a nice dark color. Even darker when his pupils are all wide like this and shit. They're still sparkling, though, like he and Adam are in on a joke that the rest of the world hasn't caught onto yet. Adam's willing to bask. “There's, there's words, Adam,” Joel's saying softly. “When people play, they use words.”   
  
He blinks.   
  
“Safewords.”   
  
Oh. Yeah, he's heard of those.   
  
“I don't, we...it's a serious thing to think about and remember, and I don't, don't think there's a lot of...” Joel gives one of those ridiculous breathy laughs again, and Adam slowly smiles at the sound of it. “We're both about to be really fucking distracted, so...”   
  
He likes the sound of that. His cock twitches at the mere idea.   
  
“So if we, if this is something we decide to do again, we can sit down and, you know, talk about it, figure out what words we want, but right now, just...there's a system, okay?”   
  
Adam nods.   
  
“It's the color system. Red, yellow, green, like a stoplight.”   
  
He nods again.   
  
“Green means you feel good. You, you want us to keep playing, you're enjoying it, you don't want it to stop for any reason. Yellow means that you want to slow down or do something else. Red means you need to stop immediately. Okay? Does that make sense?”   
  
Green, yellow, red. It makes perfect sense. He nods.   
  
“Use words, Adam.”   
  
“Yeah, makes sense,” he says. His voice is rough and feels like he hasn't used it in a year.   
  
“Say, say the words for me.”   
  
“Green, yellow, red.” He feels like he's reciting a nursery rhyme.   
  
“Good.” Joel runs his fingers through Adam's hair and Adam sucks in a sharp breath, immediately leans into the touch. “Good. Okay. You want me in control? Is that why I have this?” Joel asks, holding the leash in Adam's field of vision.   
  
“Yes,” Adam says. He can feel a flush on his skin, over his arms, over his chest. “Yeah, I want you in control, Joel.”   
  
“All right, Adam.” Joel comes to his feet and Adam can see Joel tenting his pants, that he's hard, and Adam traces his eyes over the curve in the fabric, fingers twitching. “You look fucking pretty,” Joel says softly. “All soft and made up for me...fuck.” Joel tugs the leash and Adam's head falls back. In the seconds since he's seen Joel's face it's gone through that switch again, back to that surprised and outraged expression when he first saw Adam, and this time Adam's heart pounds so fast he can practically hear it in his ears. Joel cups his face. “Like a spoiled pet. Like, like you just wanna sit on the floor next to my chair while I'm working and wait for me to pet you.” This time Adam absolutely recognizes the fingers through his hair as a pet, and when Joel's fingers tighten around his hair and pull his head back further Adam lets out a low pleased sound. “Yeah. Yeah, that's exactly what you want.”   
  
Adam softly moans, eyes half closed, and Joel's nails dig into his scalp, send a hot shock straight down his spine.   
  
“Fuck, Adam.”   
  
“Please,” Adam whispers faintly, “please, Joel-”   
  
There's such a sharp tug to the leash that Adam almost feels like he's at the edge of choking, his breath cut off just enough to make his blood rush a little faster. “I told you not to talk, Adam.”   
  
Fuck, he did, didn't he? He's so shit at following directions when Joel's got him riled up. He lets out a groan.   
  
“You can talk to answer questions and to safeword out and that's it. What, what else, just, do I need to find another way to shut you up?”   
  
He's never heard Joel sound this firm. He's heard him angry, heard him happy, heard him panicked, but this is, this is something else, and Adam probably shouldn't be this fucking turned on by it, but he absolutely is.   
  
There's silence as Adam obediently waits. And then Joel drops his hands to his belt.   
  
Adam watches as Joel's fingers deftly undo the leather, and he has a random thought - _he could spank me with that_ \- before the belt falls open and Joel works at his button and zipper. “So here's the thing,” Joel says, “since you just, you can't shut up for three fucking seconds, I'm gonna fuck your face.”   
  
Adam's eyes flick up to Joel's and stay there.   
  
“Red, yellow, or green?” Joel asks, quirking an eyebrow.   
  
“Green,” Adam says immediately.   
  
Joel's lips quirk into a hint of a smile before it drops away again. “You listening, Adam?” he asks as he drops his pants to his ankles.   
  
It's hard to listen when he's eye to eye with Joel's thighs, but he nods anyway.   
  
“You can't, can't talk with my cock in your mouth, and you might not be able to just, to pull off, so.” He takes one of Adam's arms, lifts it, works his way up to Adam's hand, and puts it on Joel's thigh. “If you need me to, to slow down, tap me twice with your hand, and hard. Okay? Do it now.”   
  
Adam taps twice, feels Joel's skin pillow around his fingers.   
  
“If you need me to stop, tap three times.”   
  
He taps three times, then hopes it's okay he did that – Joel hadn't asked, after all.   
  
“Good.”   
  
Adam practically melts with relief.   
  
Joel slides his boxers down, and when his cock bounces free Adam is immediately leaning in, only held back by the tug of the leash. “You know,” Joel murmurs, “I don't think I told you what to do yet.”   
  
Adam makes a weak sound again, looking up at Joel through his dark lashes, pouting.   
  
Joel grins, but as weak as he normally is to Adam's pouting he doesn't immediately give in. “You want a cock in your mouth that bad?” Joel asks, tilting his head.   
  
Totally a question. “Just yours,” he says. “Please, Joel.”   
  
“Just mine?” He flicks his tongue out over his smiling lips, dampens them, and Adam feels his heart come to a sudden stop. “You mean to say that when Jack saw you, you weren't thinking of him like that?”   
  
Can Joel fucking read minds now, is that it?   
  
Joel catches Adam's cheek with his hand and brushes his thumb over it again. “Y'know, you, you'd look just as pretty with Jack's cock down your throat.”   
  
That is new. That is really fucking new.   
  
“Maybe with Caiti telling you exactly how to take him?”   
  
He feels like he's been punched in the gut with arousal. Barely realizes that he's panting, that he can't quite remember how to use his words.   
  
“Yeah,” Joel says softly, fondly, eyes warm as he pulls the leash forward, pulls Adam toward his cock. “That's what I thought.”   
  
Adam opens his mouth when Joel's cock is in range, and at Joel's soft “Tease me,” he runs his tongue slowly up the underside. Joel lets out an approving hum, and Adam flicks his eyes up to Joel's face, watches his expression as he plants wet, suckling kisses down the silky skin of his shaft.   
  
He likes blowing Joel. He's never taken as singular of a pleasure in it as Joel does when he blows Adam – Joel's spent upwards of half an hour simply teasing Adam with his mouth before – but Joel is always so scattered, so focused on a million things at once. There's something particularly satisfying about taking all of it away and having Joel focused on just him for once.   
  
That's the point of this entire thing, he realizes. He wants Joel focused on him. He wants Joel to think about this night, how Adam looked, how Adam made him feel, for weeks and months to come. Adam wants to look up when they're at work and see Joel absently staring into space while chewing on a pen and to know exactly what he's thinking about.   
  
He swirls his tongue around the head of Joel's cock, collecting the thick, salty drop of precum there, and takes a personal sense of pleasure in the way that Joel moans.   
  
Joel's other hand is in Adam's hair, his fingers massaging his scalp, and Adam's mind slows as he does that, as he tugs absently at the strands and scratches his head. He locks his lips around the head and sucks absently, and he knows he should probably feel more focused, but as long as Joel is taking those slow measured breaths and rubbing his head and not pulling him off Adam knows there's no way in hell he will be. More precum appears, and Adam immediately sucks it up, letting out a low hum.   
  
He doesn't realize that there's pressure on his head for a moment, but he obediently takes more of Joel's cock when he does. His tongue is slick with his own saliva and it makes it so easy, taking more in his mouth, lathing Joel with it so that when he pulls out slowly his cock is practically dripping.   
  
Adam distantly recognizes the smear of gloss on Joel's cock, and he so abruptly remembers how he's painted up, how _pretty_ Joel thinks he is, and that's enough to make his heart thud in his chest, his mind kick into overdrive, and his fingers twitch greedily for more.   
  
Adam doesn't realize he's let out a low whine until Joel chuckles and cut him off with the press of his cock into his mouth again. “You're so fucking good, Adam,” Joel says, nearly whispering it. “So good, just, just like that, yeah.”   
  
The praise sets heavily on Adam's mind, pressing down in a pleasant weight, and he sucks at Joel more determinedly, wanting to pull sounds from him, wanting him to praise him again, wanting-   
  
“Fuck...”   
  
Yeah, wanting that, just, just anything that Joel will give him. Adam squeezes his hands around Joel's thighs as Joel rocks in and out of his mouth slowly, so slowly, like he doesn't think Adam can take any more, but that's bullshit because he can, they both _know_ that he can, and he fucking hates that Joel is teasing him like this, not letting Adam make him feel good, not letting Adam do what they both so desperately want-   
  
“Shh, shh.” Only when Joel shushes him does Adam realize that he's been keening, pulling against the grip in his hair, and he comes to a stop and looks up at Joel with a wrinkled brow and a huff through his nose. “You're pouting,” Joel says with a grin. “You've, you've got a dick in your mouth, Adam, you look fucking ridiculous.”   
  
And it's so close to how Joel used to tease him and playfully berate him that Adam's eyelashes flutter again, that his chest swells with fondness and love.   
  
“Here, c'mon, I'll give you what you want.”   
  
Adam groans out a low _”Mm-hmm”_ as Joel presses in further, enough for Adam to feel his tensed muscles relax again.   
  
“You're gonna be good for me, yeah? Gonna take what I give you?”   
  
He hums a little too desperately, scrapes his nails over Joel's thighs, goes slack instead of pulling at the grip in his hair.   
  
It's almost instantaneous. As soon as Joel stops feeling him fight, there's a pull at the leash, just enough to tighten around the back of his neck and send pleasant heat tingling all through his brain, and Adam follows the cue, drops his jaw further, lifts his soft palate. He takes him down, down, down, until the back of his throat starts protesting, until there's the sudden gag, and Joel pulls him back just enough for his throat to calm, like he's waiting for something. Adam squeezes his thighs, and Joel starts the forward tug again.   
  
This time he's ready. Adam keeps himself relaxed, feels his hands shaking, and when his nose nuzzles into Joel's soft pubes he feels the thundercrack of satisfaction and pleasure in the back of his mind.   
  
He's good. He's such a fucking good boy.   
  
“Perfect,” Joel whispers, and there's the leash again, pulling him back, and Adam feels his eyes shut rather than doing it himself, letting out a soft hum once air has room to flow through his vocal folds again. “Oh my God, Adam, you're fucking perfect, you're just... _fuck._ ”   
  
Adam lets Joel lead everything. There's the slow pull back, the slow pull forward. Adam barely has to do anything at all. He can just let himself be used, let Joel take his mouth exactly like he wants to take it. And when the pace picks up it's even more satisfying, like it's mimicking the frantic pounding of his heart. He can feel fucking everything when his brain's shut off like this, when all there is to experience is _sensation._   
  
He doesn't give a shit that his throat is going to be fucking wrecked with how forceful Joel's suddenly being, how fast, how, how frantic, just-   
  
He's so ready for Joel to come straight down his throat, to hold him there until Adam's about to pass out, but...but no, suddenly Joel's pulling out and raking a hand through Adam's hair and he's dropping to his knees and kissing Adam so forcefully that Adam's pressed back, has to catch himself with an instinctive hand on the floor so Joel doesn't completely bend him over backward.   
  
Joel straddles Adam's thighs as their lips work so slickly against each other, and Adam can feel the heat of Joel's cock pressed flush against his belly through the shirt he's wearing. There's the distant clinking of Joel's belt as Joel kicks his pants all the way off, as he wraps an arm around Adam's neck, kisses him like he's trying to claim him.   
  
And then he's pulling off, pulling Adam's head to his neck by the leash, and Adam responds immediately, sinking his teeth into Joel's neck over and over again as he claws at his back. “Gonna fuck the shit out of you,” Joel's breathing through his panting. “Gonna just, you're, I'm gonna fucking ruin you.”   
  
Adam growls against Joel's neck and bucks against him, and Joel's bucking back, and they're frotting like fucking animals here on the floor. Fuck, he wants this. He locks his arms around Joel's back and scoots forward, dragging his knees over the carpet, feeling them burn in protest, and as he's sucking a mark into Joel's neck Adam reaches toward the coffee table, straining, leaning them both forward until he has the tiny bottle of lube in his hand, until he can pull back enough so Joel can see it.   
  
It takes a moment for Joel's eyes to focus, but when they do they seem to spark. “Good boy,” he murmurs as he snatches it away.   
  
Adam wants to melt into the floor at those words.   
  
Joel's hands glide down the buttons on Adam's shirt, flicking them open, and he nearly rips it off of his shoulders, shoving it down, running his hands over Adam's chest and stomach. His eyes are full of fire, raking over him like hot coals, and Adam preens at the attention, leans back enough for Joel to look his fill.   
  
As Joel's fingers continue their journey, they finally come at a stop at Adam's waistband. Joel leans back and Adam gets pulled forward, and when Joel gets out of the way Adam goes crashing onto his hands and knees.   
  
His fingers continue on, over the nearly transparent lace detailing. “These are cute,” Joel says distantly.   
  
Adam wiggles, feels satisfied when he hears Joel breathe another laugh.   
  
“Think you should wear them at work.”   
  
“What, for other people?”   
  
Teeth suddenly sink into one of his sides, sharp and merciless, and Adam dips his head with a gasp as Joel speaks. “Still can't shut up.”   
  
Right, yeah, no, he, he forgot that part. He keeps his head down and lets Joel's mouth drag its way down his skin.   
  
It's a slow journey, and Adam zeroes in on the sensation, catches his breath, even moans when he feels Joel squeezes his ass. “I'm buying you eight bajillion pairs of these,” Joel says as he begins to tug them down. “I don't, I, you can't fucking wear anything else ever again, I don't care.”   
  
The second his underwear is across the room there's a slick finger, and Adam bears back on it, lets out a whine when Joel immediately holds the leash tightly, keeps him right where Joel wants him.   
  
“Fucking,” Joel pauses and takes a deep breath, sounds like he keeps forgetting how to do so. “Did you forget that I-I'm the one in control, Adam?”   
  
He lets his mouth go slack, settles for panting as Joel takes his goddamn time getting just one little finger inside of him. He remembers Caiti offering for Adam to stretch himself out, wear a plug, and suddenly his entire body is engulfed in fucking flames thinking of her watching him doing that and her petting him and telling him he's being good-   
  
A second finger punches the air out of Adam, and he closes his eyes, focuses on the sensation of being stretched.   
  
Would Joel like that too? Because Adam knows suddenly that he would, that he, that they, all four of them, they have a, a tight bond, have for years – Adam can remembering being at the minigolf course next to Jack, who was hurriedly getting out a ringbox, while Joel loudly distracted Caiti on the other side of the course. They've always been close, _too_ close, and he, he just, what if Joel was fingering him open while Jack was on the bed beside them eating Caiti out, what if, okay and-   
  
Three fingers, _fuck._ Adam wants to dip his head but the leash tugs him back further when he even tries.   
  
“What are you thinking about?” Joel asks airily as he moves his fingers, teases out a long curl of sensation from Adam's prostate.   
  
“Fuck,” Adam whispers, his legs shaking, before he lifts his voice as much as he can bear. “Jack going down on, on Caiti while you fuck m-me next to them.”   
  
Joel is silent and his fingers go still. And then he's pushing Adam's face straight into the carpet with a huff. “You know, I, we, we could do that,” Joel says over the sound of lube being squeezed out of the tiny bottle, a bottle which soon lands on the carpet next to Adam's face. “We could both fuck them. Caiti. Jack.”   
  
Adam groans and presses his forehead into his arm. “Don't fucking tease me, Joel.”   
  
A slightly slick hand suddenly wraps around Adam's throat over the collar and squeezes, and Adam realizes as goosebumps flood his skin that he can't breathe.   
  
“No fucking talking,” Joel says roughly, and then he's pushing inside of Adam.   
  
He sets a blistering pace from the get go, scraping Adam's face over the carpet as every thrust pushes them forward, Joel's fingers squeezing and relaxing around Adam's throat just enough to make him thankful for every breath. When Adam presses his hands into the floor and bears back against Joel in a frenzy – he wants it harder, harder, _harder_ \- Joel just pulls the leash and drags a cry out of Adam as he sits up on his knees, his back against Joel's chest.   
  
Fuck, he's still wearing his shirt. Motherfucker didn't even want to get naked for this. Adam feels the brush of his stockings over Joel's bare legs, the sting of Joel's buttons digging into Adam's back, and when Joel tugs a little more, just enough to lay Adam's head back onto his shoulder, Adam rolls his eyes back like an animal so he can see Joel's face, his gritted teeth and furrowed brow and wild expression.   
  
It's fast and hard. Joel's arm never lets the leash go slack. His hand doesn't move from Adam's hip. He just fucks into him like a toy, and Adam breathes out an endless stream of moans instead of forbidden words.   
  
The second Adam hears Joel's choked, labored breathing, he knows. He squeezes and clenches around him just to hear Joel cry out, to feel him bury his face in Adam's neck as he comes.   
  
“I love you,” Adam breathes out even though he's not allowed, even though he'll be punished, because feeling and smelling and tasting Joel all around him means it's impossible not to say, not to _feel,_ not when he's flayed open and sure that Joel can practically see the love radiating off of Adam.   
  
And while Adam's waiting for his punishment, Joel lifts his head and touches Adam's face and turns his head and kisses him deeply.   
  
It's slow, unhurried, not the frenzied kissing they'd had before, and Adam's knees almost buckle. He leans all of his weight back into Joel without a bit of self-consciousness, feels how easily Joel catches it and supports him, and as Joel kisses him so thoroughly he teases a slick hand over Adam's cock.   
  
Adam groans, trying to fuck up into Joel's hand, and Joel reads his mind, his actions, sets just as fast a pace jerking him off as he did fucking him. Adam can't keep himself from reaching up and threading his fingers in Joel's hair and pulling him closer, licking into his mouth, and he should probably be embarrassed when he's coming in seconds but he can't bring himself to care.   
  
They break just enough to pant against each other's mouths, to touch their foreheads together, and Joel rubs the softness of Adam's belly, hypnotic and slow. “You are so gross,” Joel finally whispers as they're basking in the afterglow. “You just, you just came all over your own floor.”   
  
“I don't care,” Adam whispers back.   
  
“It is disgusting,” Joel insists. “Someone's gonna step on that.”   
  
“Whatever, dude,” Adam says. “The carpet, it's gross enough, okay, it'll blend in.”   
  
“No-”   
  
“Then you clean it up.”   
  
Joel stares at him aghast and Adam grins. And when Joel finally pulls out of him and lets Adam topple over onto the ground he's saying “I fucking hate you.” Joel gets up, stumbles a step, regains footing, and walks very carefully to the bathroom, calling over his shoulder. “This is, this isn't the first time, Adam, you know that, I'm always, just, this entire relationship, ever since I met you, has been cleaning up after you, and I, I just, I'm fucking sick of it!”   
  
Adam closes his eyes where he lays, his cheeks hurting from how widely he's smiling. “Tell me all about it, Joel.”   
  
Joel is there again, kneeling beside him, cleaning the jizz off of Adam's chest and ass with focused concentration. “Love you too,” Joel murmurs as he kisses him. “Even if you're a fucking laz-”   
  
“You're old.”   
  
“Shut up.”


End file.
